Syndicate

Dec. 31st, 2016

[lock to clary house residents]

Hello. [...] I'm new. Moving in today. Will be managing the house. Fixing anything broken, all that. [...] Name's Matt Devlin. Used to be a vet in town. Can also fix anyone broken, anyone needs stitches, that kind of thing. I'll make myself as useful as I can. Considering the gatecrashing.

Dec. 29th, 2016

[residents of 'clary house']

[In the end, Michael disappears quickly, all at once. It's not like him, which means, no doubt, that it wasn't optional. It also means that he's going to need to pick up and move, and out of the country, no less, which will make being a landlord to his friends/tenants...complicated.

So he puts the building on the market and someone snaps it up in no time flat. Pretty soon, a new landlord will take over the building - he'll even be moving in. Thankfully, they work in the same place, so Michael's able to ensure he's not a total nutjob (probably).

Each of the residents gets a message in their forum inbox.

Gotta go. Assignment outside the country, no time to waste, etc. etc. I can't help you guys out anymore when a pipe breaks or you find black mold (there is no black mold, not yet anyway, be good) so I figured it was better if I made sure someone would actually be here for you all if anything went wrong. I sold it to somebody I know, and she's giving it to a guy she knows named Matt. I hear he's handy, and he seems alright.

Sorry to up and leave on such short notice. This wasn't part of the plan. If I'm ever back in this town again, you're totally clear to shove me really hard on the shoulder, only. No touching the face.

If the new guy gives you any trouble, call me. I have a gentleman's agreement with the lady who bought it, and I can always get on her case. Nobody can evict you, it was part of the agreement, so you can stay in the house rent-free as long as you feel like. It's yours as much as anybody's. Hope it does you some good.

-Michael

P.S: Don't touch my comics, Carver, they're in that safe in the closet for a reason.]

Nov. 25th, 2016

[locked to reece, carver, and destiny - residents of clary house]

Just thought it would be nice to introduce the neighbors. Reece is a friend from my old job, he's going to be staying upstairs with Carver and I. Reece, Carver's an old friend since high school. Destiny is our very nice downstairs neighbor. Talk amongst yourselves! Make friends. Happy belated Thanksgiving? I think the new Gilmore Girls season just went up, so, I'll be doing that.

Oct. 10th, 2016

[Team Group Lock]Commander wants everyone who attends this Halloween thing? Keeping an eye out. I guess you could say that previous events have been a little on the odd side. Oh, also, everyone say hello to everyone. Next time? Madison gets to be the social one.

Sep. 18th, 2016

[Encrypted lock to AEGIS: Cat C, Flash T, Isaiah B, Felicity H][After a official email from the Commander announces Steve's position as captain, and after Steve sends them all his own (heavily-redacted and not by him) military case file, beginning with notes from 1941 and his failed attempts at joining up with the army.]

I thought I'd best introduce myself. I'm Steve. AKA Captain Liberty, if any of you are old enough to know him. Have we all ever gotten together anywhere as a group?

Aug. 25th, 2016

[B&B Lock]

To be safe, let's get laptops, iPads, etc., out of the B&B before midnight Friday. Would be dangerous if everything exploded at once. To make it easier, bring your machines to the back. Will have a safe place for them, and will have beer and BBQ on. Late night feast. If it's a false alarm, like 1999, we all eat free then sleep. Sound good?

Aug. 2nd, 2016

log: looking for carver in the woods

There's a helpful old man who hangs out near the coffee shop that loudly proclaims he saw the "tall and serious man" from the Catholic church run off that away. He points his old, wrinkly finger towards the southern woods that stretch like walls across the backdrop of the town. The forest seems to grow if you look at it too long, as if to say that anyone who steps inside will be lost forever and there's no rhyme or reason to it. The trees are the teeth, the forest is the monster and Carver ran in as a willing participant of a midnight snack the night before.

As the gang ventures deeper, the world gets darker. It's not natural. The sun hasn't quite set yet and under normal circumstances, there should be a rosy light filtering through the needles and leaves of the trees overhead. No, this is bottled midnight that only grows darker the more the gang wanders. Blueish purple like a bruise. Summertime orbs of firefly light buzzing cutting soft lines through the darkness. Frogs, crickets, owls. Chatter. That's the worst part about ghosts by far. They don't scream right away most of the time. It's a slow build, like a good song. They chat with each other, they break tree branches, they wait until your blood turns cold and then HOOWWLL, SCREAM, BOO!

Not yet. That's for later.

Carver, bless his heart, left a trail of petals. They're beautiful and shriveled like melted glass. Green, yellow, pink, blue. They glisten under the wandering of light orbs and lead the gang to a warm fire up ahead. A campfire. Smartly dressed boy scouts from another era, shouting their campfire songs raucously as they roast marshmallows. They give the gang a bad feeling because sometimes one of the boys turns and looks at them with murder eyes, smiles and then goes back to singing.

Across from him is Carver. He's slumped over, dirty, hair in his face. He is not singing along.